


Apple Cider

by Aestheticdenbrough



Category: IT (1990), IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Adult Losers Club (IT), Baking, Brownies, Cuddling, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cute, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Halloween, Halloween movies, M/M, Multi, One Big Happy Family, Oneshot, Polyamory, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, fall - Freeform, funny pajamas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-25 17:17:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16202066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aestheticdenbrough/pseuds/Aestheticdenbrough
Summary: The losers always do the same thing. Every fall is the same: apple cider, brownies, and The Nightmare Before Christmas.





	Apple Cider

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday to Hannah @reddiesetrichie on tumblr, I hope you like it!!

The crisp fall air flows effortlessly in through the front door as Stan struggles to shut the door behind him.”I’m home, nobody set the house on fire, yeah?” he calls in question, the question would sound comedic to anyone outside of their life, but it’s a valid assumption seeing as he’d left them baking brownies when he’d gone to get groceries.

The seven of them have always been chaotic and messy and loud, but that’s often how they like it. The date is October 28th and it’s one of their last quiet days at home together before the holiday season truly ramps up. Stan unravels his scarf from his neck and hangs it carefully on his rack on the wall, adding his coat atop it afterwards. 

He runs his hands through his dark hair and looks himself in the hall mirror before going to join the others in the kitchen. His nose is tinted pink from the cool air, as well as the olive skin on his cheeks, his green eyes shine with the wateryness of the outdoors. He’d be embarrassed if he was to see anyone but the six loves of his life.

He finally steps into the warm kitchen, his boots clomping against the wood floor, completely ruining his effort to step up behind Beverly and hug her around the waist, which he does anyways. Since he couldn’t surprise her, her decides to tickle her sides instead; this results in a high shriek from her, turning quickly to give him an expression of false anger.

“How was shopping, did you get the apple cider?” she asks with a grin that makes her freckles crinkle up in her smile. He loves the little wrinkles around her eyes when she smiles, the familiar green shine is another favorite of his, he has a habit of thoroughly studying each of their faces when he can; simply a part of the pure warmth he feels whenever he sees them. If he can memorize every piece, maybe he can imagine them detailed enough to enjoy that warmth all the time.

“Yup, and the marshmallows Mike wanted,” he says as he pulls away just enough to survey the kitchen for anything they may have done in the process of baking, only seeing the mess they’d left of flour and box of eggs on the counter. “No scorch marks this time, I’m proud.”

“Hey, we can be successful sometimes,” Ben quips, sticking his tongue out at the other boy. Stan simply walks over and considers wiping the chocolate off Ben’s lip but instead presses his own lips to them, warm and soft. 

“You taste good,” Stan teases, wiping another mark off Ben’s cheek with a teasing grin that his lovers have all learned to love. They may not always understand his humor, but they do enjoy it even when they’re confused. At least him being humorous means he’s happy, and having them all happy is the best they can do.

“You do too, new chapstick?” Ben asks with a little grin, he licks his lips for a moment of processing. “Peppermint,” he says surely, looking Stan in the eye with a menacing grim merely in the spirit of feeling successful.

“Yup,” Stan returns with his own grin, looking over to Bill and Eddie, both sitting on the marble counter and swinging their legs back and forth. One of Bill’s hands is in Eddie’s and one is holding onto a chocolatey spoon from making the brownies. Eddie only lays his head on Bill’s shoulder breathing evenly and generally looking content despite being zoned out.

“Hey, you awake?” Richie asks as he pops into the kitchen, immediately noticing Eddie leaning on Bill’s shoulder with his brown eyes covered by his thin eyelids. Eddie jumps slightly and Bill glances over as well, both of them emerging from their own little worlds.

Eddie nods, “Just getting some rest before you came back, you know how much it takes to keep up with you?” he teases with his own sleepy smile as the fire returns to his eyes, the brown becoming even deeper as the fog clears up. His eyes and hair rival the shade of the chocolate spoon that Bill is finally getting off the counter to clean it off.

Richie blows a raspberry in Eddie’s direction, slapping Bill on the left asscheek as he walks to the sink, causing Bill to whip around to wink at him, which Mike notices over at the sink himself. Mike grins back, chewing his lip to avoid chewing them out, though it definitely can be a contest with them sometimes.

“Hey Bill, giving me a hand now?” he asks warmly, taking the sticky spoon from Bill’s hands to put it in the warm water to soak with the other baking utensils. Bill nods with a small smile, “Can you help me load these into the dishwasher? It’s probably too much to hand wash,” Mike says with his own nod.

“Gotcha, Mikey,” Bill agrees, rolling his thick sleeves up to his elbows to keep his flannel dry. He pulls the measuring cup from the water with a grimace at the feeling of the water on his skin. He turns the sink up to a warm setting to rinse it out one final time. Both he and Mike get droplets of water redirected at them.

“Ah, careful,” Mike chuckles warmly, turing the sink off for Bill as Bill goes to place the cup on the top row of the dishwasher, “You should work more on the plates, less splatter,” he jokes, ruffling his big hand into Bill’s ginger hair.

“Actually I think I’m going to go get ready, you good with this?” Bill asks, his wide blue eyes meeting Mike’s deep coffee colored ones. He gives an innocent smile, really just one to avoid responsibility at all costs, though they usually let him off the hook, knowing the responsibility he took over them so many years ago in Derry, Maine.

Mike nods with a small sigh, smiling slightly. It’s almost funny to him how Bill can turn on the puppy dog face so easily and so quickly. “Only because you’re cute,” he says, drying his hand quickly on the towel and brushing his thumb on Bill’s cheekbone.

Bill smiles back, a happy hum escaping his throat as Mike touches his cheek, a hot blush rising to his cheeks and the tips of his ears. “Why thank you, Michael Hanlon,” Bill says, making an attempt to be smooth but his voice shakes with a giggle that wills itself to escape.

Bill jogs himself up to the shared room they have, their bed unmade. It makes him chuckle, they’d spent so much to get it custom built to be long enough for them all to fit but they never make their bed in the morning, the sheets always wrinkled and the blankets all strewn about. They all like different levels of heat in their sleep, leaving it all a mess of blankets and sweaty skin. They’d have it no other way.

He opens one of his drawers, pulling out the fleece yellow fabric. He shakes it out so it’s unfolded properly. He grins to himself. It’s Halloween soon enough, costumes can start now if he so pleases. He undresses, frowning slightly at the fact that he did in fact get his flannel sleeve wet, but only at the edge of the fold so it isn’t so bad, he’s changing anyways.

He pulls on the onesie, pulling the hood up even before zipping it all the way up with the satisfying hum of the zipper on plastic. He looks himself in the mirror, smiling at the face on the hood, that of Pikachu from Pokemon. He, Richie, Eddie, and Stan used to watch it together on the worn couch in the Denbrough basement. Of course it’s meant to spark memories, but also looked at the coziest one at Target, and the most like something that would make the others chuckle.

He starts to leave the room and just as he is about to open the door when the door opens before he has the chance to open it. Before him stands Richie, he should have known. Richie is the only other person in the house who can be as lazy as Bill.

Richie suppresses a laugh at Bill’s appearance. “Nice look,” he chuckles out. “Can you say pika-pika?” he teases with a smug expression. Bill pouts back at him, sticking his tongue out for a moment. 

“No, but I can kiss you,” Bill says equally as smugly, leaning in to peck Richie on the tip of his nose, leaving the boy giggling at the ticklish feeling of Bill’s chapped lips.

“You need to use more chapstick, dickweed,” Richie smirks, “I was about to get ready in comfy clothes too,” he admits, punching Bill playfully in the shoulder. “We’ll probably all nap together on the couch with a movie tonight, it’ll be nice,” he says, already setting the expectation in his head.

“Definitely,” Bill hums with a soft smile, walking back and plopping back onto the bed, pulling the blanket over himself childishly with a sweet sigh. “I’m tired,” he hums out, watching Richie’s back as he pulls off his shirt. He chews his lip at the slight muscles moving against his pale skin, the freckles that dot his back looking like constellations in Bill’s happily biased eyes.

“You can nap when we all get settled, promise,” Richie teases in his shirtless state, kissing the top of Bill’s head happily, “We’re probably watching The Nightmare Before Christmas,” Richie grins, one of his absolute favorites for the Halloween season.

Bill sits himself up, just continuing to wait for Richie to change so they can go down together. Richie finally pulls up some Spongebob pajama pants and a plain gray v-neck. He finally turns around and puts his hands out to help Bill into a standing position. “The brownies are gonna be really good, ya’think?” he asks with an excited grin, Richie’s sweet tooth has always been the largest, he can’t help but guzzle candy and sugary drinks.

“They will be, I would know, I licked the spoon,” Bill says with his own chuckle, clasping his fingers contently with Richie’s so they could walk downstairs together in their respective silly and childish pajamas.

It’s easy to see that nearly all seven of the losers let their childishness and immaturity bleed into their adulthood together. Bill’s psychologist doesn’t seem to understand him being the way he is as an adult, even nearly nonverbal around anyone but his partners. They’d been deeply traumatized, but time together helps heal the wounds of their pasts.

Richie and Bill finally find themselves in the living room, plopping on the couch to find the places they often claim, it’s always a race to the loveseats for these guys. They follow the three c’s in their relationships. Communication, care, and lots and lots of cuddling.

Ben comes in next with a silver bowl of popcorn, placing it on the coffee table. He spots Bill’s onesie apparel even under the snuggly blanket he and Richie had chosen, “You went straight for the nostalgia, huh?” he asks just as teasingly as Richie had been, all of them clearly remember the Pokemon series from their childhoods in vivid detail.

“Yup,” Bill hums, obviously quite proud of himself in his appearance despite the fact that he’s already overheating, but at least he is cozy. “I like remembering. At least the happy stuff,” he says, the second part coming out in a smaller and more shy voice. He doesn’t like remembering the difficult parts. Even though Pennywise has escaped his mindscape finally, Georgie still haunts his nightmares on occasion.

Ben settles himself on the very end of the loveseat, snuggling up to Bill’s side to leech off his warmth and keep close, hopefully in a comforting way. He’s been trying his best to be better at noticing when Bill is upset about something, he hopes to be better at comfort but he generally sees himself as mostly socially socially inept through adulthood, but the losers would never judge him. It’s just one of many millions of reasons he loves them.

Mike comes in next, the brownies they made as a group all stacked neatly onto a serving plate, making all of their mouths water as soon as they see them and the rich smell fills the room. “Gimme, gimme, gimme,” Richie begs with a pleading smile in Mikes direction. 

Mike chuckles at his tone, setting the plate close to the loveseat (bursting already with three people on it) before going to sit on the other loveseat and already messing with the remotes to find his way to Netflix and look through the Halloween movies, only to remember Richie’s insistence on The Nightmare Before Christmas.

Bev trails in next, plopping herself happily in the lap of Mike, pulling the nearby blanket over the two of them with a satisfied sound of her own. “Same movie that we watch every year?” she asks, nibbling at a piece of popcorn, obviously content with the situation her statement is meant to reference. They watch the same movies every year. None of them are any too fond of change, and it’s just fine for all seven of them.

Eddie comes in draped around Stan’s shoulders sleepily, the two of them settling on the other couch with Mike as he looks around their circle to make sure all have settled. Bill is laying with his head in Richie’s lap, already probably drifting off to sleep, understandably so due to how he’d been up early working on stuff for his class the next day. Richie is happily knawing on his brownie, looking expectantly at Mike to start the movie. Stan cuddles up to Bev who is already snuggled into Mike’s lap. Eddie leans his head on Stan’s shoulder and breathes out in comfort. Bill only stirs slightly as the opening song plays, Eddie not at all.

It’s the same every year, and they would never dare have it any different. They can imagine themselves deep into their sixties all on the couch watching The Nightmare Before Christmas with brownies and popcorn, several cats probably settled at their feet.


End file.
